Bleeders
by Orenji Kaniku
Summary: Detectives Yami Yugi Motou and Jounochi Katsuya are called out to a murder that screams, "VAMPIRE". Do they have reason to believe that a mythical creature did this or is it just a disturbed citizen?
1. Fountain of Blood

**Title**: Bleeders  
**Author**: Orenji Kaniku  
**Rating**: R  
**Warnings**: Strong language, violence, gore, and multiple character deaths  
**Summary**: Detectives Yami Yugi Motou and Jounochi Katsuya are called out to a murder that screams, "VAMPIRE". Do they have reason to believe that a mythical creature did this or is it just a disturbed citizen?  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Yugioh!  
**Betas**: Liger, Yami27, and Homogenic  
**Notes**: I tried to get this story close to how things actually are in the Law Enforcement field with the endless research because not only am I going into this field and I have learned a lot, I thought it would be beneficial to those who are still looking for a career to match their own personality or just to read something that isn't completely fiction. I hope you learn something.   
  
The "Snake and Spider stew" bit is from one of my favorite Tim Burton films called Nightmare before Christmas. It's the tenth song, Kidnap the Sandy Claws on the original soundtrack composed and lyricaled by Danny Elfman. These two men are utter geniuses.   
  
_**Prologue: Fountain of Blood**_  
  
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He was lurking behind the hedges that lined the Domino park. It was nearly eleven, which normally meant that the lovely young couples would be strolling just once more through the park from their cinemas to romantically cuddle and make-out on their favorite benches. It had been raining all day and hadn't stopped for the night. They seemed to be out of luck tonight.   
  
His partner gripped his hand in anxious anticipation.  
  
"Can we have that one?"  
  
He turned his full concentration to a short Japanese girl with long hair running in ebony waves down her back. Right between her slender shoulder blades. His mother told him once -when she still loved him- that the shoulder blades were once where our wings were. When we were still angels.   
  
What was special about this girl that his partner pointed out? Was it her long legs that disappeared up her blue jean skirt to meet in a perfect nest of shiny black curls guarding an even better treasure? How he'd like to taste that treasure. Was she bleeding? Oh, he hoped so; he loved the way the blood tasted when it was fresh from between a woman's thighs. Sweet and ripe.  
  
"How does she smell?" He asked his partner, his breath against her ear, making her shiver. He watched his partner concentrate and lick her lips, making them gleam in the moonlight that penetrated through the thick blanket of leaves above them. He smiled and watched her think. He could almost see the cogs turning in her lovely head.   
  
"Oh, I think she'll do." His partner nodded her head quickly in affirmation, her hair wriggling loose from the poorly crafted topknot. She rubbed her hands together and smacked her lips, almost tasting the woman in her lovely mouth. "I think she'll do quite nicely, Shiva."  
  
Shiva and his lovely Lady Durga. Of course, these were not their real names, they were code names. Aliases if you will. They were not stupid enough to call each other by their birth given names, heaven forbid! Such idiocy would surely bring their demise. No, Shiva had picked out these names carefully with endless books and research of deities, manifestations, and ghosts with a destructive reputation. Who else but the Indian God of Destruction and his female manifestation?  
  
Durga was reputed to be a beautiful but fierce yellow woman who rode upon a buffalo or tiger and she was usually armed. He moved his hands around to the front of Durga's blouse underneath her leather jacket and found the pistol he expected to find, and smiled. She was living up to her reputation. All she needed to do was paint her lovely pale skin yellow.   
  
They would make the world pay for their pain.   
  
They'd paint it red with the blood of those who hurt them.   
  
They'd start from the outside, just to get used to it, and work their way in to those who really needed to be taught a lesson.   
  
Durga gripped his hand and they began to walk. They sniggered and nipped lovingly at each other's throats with sharp fangs, barley scraping the flesh that protected the Vein. They played the roles of an adoring couple perfectly.   
  
They were right behind the girl. The way she crossed her arms in front of her made her shoulders shrink in vulnerability.   
  
"I want to taste her," Durga whispered as she wrapped her arm around his waist. She always put her index finger in the loop right outside his belt buckle. As they walked faster her elbow bounced lightly off his firm ass.   
  
"I know you do, darling."  
  
"Look at the way her shoulders shrink as she walks." His partner eagerly sucked on her lower lip. She hadn't fed in so long. They'd been drinking each other and stolen blood from the bank. It wasn't nearly as good as a fresh kill. The way the warm blood ran over their tongues was erotic; it made her wet and eager as it made him stiff and hurting.   
  
"Precious lady," Shiva sang softly.  
  
"I love you." Durga murmured. She turned her head and nodded. There wasn't anyone in the park. Not tonight; it was supposed to rain. They were lucky they even found this Asian morsel.   
  
Oh so lucky.   
  
Durga came from behind, clamping her elegant hand over the girl's small mouth and expertly using her left leg to pin her against her body for support. If the girl tried to run, she'd be tripped by Durga's foot before she got anywhere. Shiva bit into her throat before they were rewarded with a scream.   
  
The girl struggled against her aggressors like a deer in the mouth of a large muscular tiger. It hurt her beyond belief but she had to get loose. She needed to feed the cats that were at home. Her two black Persians. They shed all over the place and there were always strands of fur on her clothes. Who would feed them if she died?  
  
Shiva held the girl's face in his large hands and painted intricate designs on her face with his bloody tongue, allowing Durga to suck their prey dry. They didn't need very much; one person would fill them for days.   
  
"Her light is fading, away. . .dimming like a dying light bulb. Poof!" Durga squealed, her fingers suddenly splayed out as if they were exploding.   
  
Shiva took the blonde in his arms and inhaled the scent of her, sandalwood and blood. "What do you want to do with her?"  
  
Durga wriggled free from his grasp and took the girl's limp arms. "Get her feet." Her partner was stumped for a moment, his hands on his hips and his dark sunglasses reflected the instant irritation on her lovely face. "Pick up her fucking feet."   
  
He did just that. They dragged her to the three level fountain in the middle of the park. It was well lit but they weren't worried about being stopped. A lesser person would, but they weren't mere mortals. They were vampires.   
  
"I left just enough." Durga smiled, her bloodstained teeth were straight, and Shiva only knew it was because of the braces she had to wear when she was thirteen. She had been so angry and resentful that she didn't leave her room for a week. Durga climbed to the top of the fountain; the water was cold and stained her jeans pure black. She twisted off the head with a swift turn and stuck it on the very tip of the samurai statue's sword. "Shiskabob." She licked her fingers clean and jumped the five feet to the ground where the rest of the once lovely girl lay in the bottom pool, tinting the water a faint pink. "The water recycles itself so it will be a lovely kool-aid pink until some poor soul comes running in the park and sees my artwork."  
  
"This is how it starts," Shiva brushed a stray leaf from his leather jacket and they began their sojourn back to their flat. "We slowly make our way to the gingerbread house to see the witch who fed us poisoned sugar and would sooner cook us in a boiling pot of snake and spider stew."  
  
"I don't like spiders." Durga murmured, leaning her head onto his shoulder.  
  
"I know, darling. I know." He put a protective arm around her waist and they walked together. It would be dawn soon and though that nonsense about vampires turning to ash the moment they're touched by sunlight was a myth, they wanted to be in before the first light hit. They were very tired and skin cancer went around like a plague.   
  
A lot like death.  
  
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_**To Be Continued. . .**_


	2. Mortis

**_Chapter One: Mortis_**  
  
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I was vaguely aware of someone in my room. I didn't feel endangered but you never can be too careful especially when you're vulnerable as a newborn baby. I reached underneath my pillow for the Glock .45 that I bought the afternoon I got my Peace Officer's license. I heard a gasp and they stepped backward. The balls of bare feet on aged wood floor made a sound that I've come very accustomed to in this house.   
  
"Don't pull out the gun, Yami. It's me, Yugi." Yugi's first name and my middle name are exactly the same. I don't know why my mother did this but it's gotten confusing when I got in trouble and Grandfather calls me by my whole name and both of us come waddling in with our heads lowered in shame. When that happens there's usually hope that it's the other guy that's in trouble.  
  
I rolled over without opening my eyes and waited for the weight at the end of my bed to sink in, signaling that my brother made himself comfortable without the threat of being shot. The saftey was on, naturally, but things happen; always have a plan, a plan for your plan to fail, make another plan. When the bed finally sank underneath Yugi's weight, I asked what time it was.   
  
"Six-fifteen." He chirped. I smelled coffee brewing in the kitchen, breakfast blend. Cool.  
  
"School day?" I asked, sitting up and rubbing my face with both hands. If it was a school day I had to be at work in fifteen minutes.  
  
"Sunday."   
  
"Why are you up so early?" I asked; this boy had to be dragged out of bed in order to make it to school on time.   
  
"You forgot. . ." I didn't need to look at him to know that his face was melting into disappointment. His voice laid it out flat for me. I knew he tried not to let it show; he'd been disappointed time and time again in his short life and I was only adding to the heartbreak.   
  
I stared at him for a moment, our almost identical eyes locked for a moment when I realized that we were going to go to the museum of modern art as soon as the sun came up. This was how I lost a great deal of potential Mrs. Motous. I forgot things in the heat of my work.   
  
I have been an officer since I graduated from the Domino Police Academy at twenty-two and I've been an investigator since I was twenty-seven. I'm now thirty and one of the best on the force. The phone rang and I groaned; Yugi tossed me the black cordless and I turned it on.   
  
"Motou, Yami."  
  
'Morning sunshine, we're on call on our God given, much needed day of rest. You think they'd wait until after noon when most of us are heading out of church.'  
  
My partner, Katsuya Jounochi was only a couple years older than me and only a tad more experienced than I was. We didn't have the luxury of graduating together from high school, college, or the academy. His partner was killed in the line of duty and he was given me, a rookie fresh from the Academy. He wiped my nose until I could pick it myself. We actually didn't click for a good four months. I was inexperienced and almost got the both of us killed on a felony traffic stop. I'm not ashamed to say that I threw up at my first crime scene, I was responding officer and had no business touching any of the evidence; I'm lucky I didn't contaminate it. Old habits die hard, but now I'm paid to touch the evidence. I wish I could say that I don't throw up anymore.   
  
"What do you have?" I got up out of bed, put an arm around Yugi, and led us to the kitchen where the coffee was just finishing. Our grandfather, Sugoroku, was frying eggs and making miso to supplement our breakfast. I don't like to admit it, but he's a better cook than I am. I own a large collection of foreign cookbooks that he's obviously memorized already.   
  
Sugoroku has lived with me since the death of my mother because I couldn't take care of Yugi, work, and go to school. We shared my small house until I bought this three bedroom and two bath not long ago. It still smells new.   
  
'A fountain of blood, literally.'  
  
"Fuck me." I groaned. Grandfather rose an eyebrow and slid me a big mug of coffee with a cream and three sugars.   
  
'Darling, it's very tempting but I'm straight. If you cross-dress and become a eunuch maybe we'll have a chance.'  
  
I laughed and didn't ask for details of the scene. I knew I'd regret this later but I just didn't feel like missing breakfast because of Jou's exaggerated theatrics of the information what he was sent through dispatch.  
  
"I'll be there in ten." I checked my watch.  
  
'Domino Central Park. Samurai fountain.' I could hear him unlocking a door and smiled when his two kids, a son and a little girl, came screaming to cling onto their father. 'Give me a kiss.' Two smacks and they ran squealing further into the background.  
  
"Not the Samurai fountain. . .any damage to it? I like that thing."  
  
'Negative, but there's a new ornament gracing the tip of his sword.' He paused, "BYE KIDS, MIND YOUR AUNT! BYE SHIZUKA!" His sister had come in from Tokyo where she works as an interior designer. She actually helped decorate the house. There really was no trace of a female influence in the house; she'd done a very good job.  
  
My stomach rolled and I resisted the urge to add a little bit of vodka in my coffee. I quickly dressed into black trousers and a white shirt with a respectable plain tie. I was putting on my shoulder holster when I kissed Grandfather on the cheek and mussed Yugi's hair. "We'll go to the museum when I get back."   
  
"I'll hold you to it." Yugi called as I made my way to my car. It was a vague piece of shit but it got me from place A to place B just fine.  
  
"You always do."  
  
-----  
  
The park had been closed off to the public; this meant that pedestrian traffic was backed up to Midori Blvd. which was near three miles from the park. I had to drive on the sidewalk with my lights flashing in broad daylight and yell at people to get out of my way. I got a dent on my passenger door and watched in my rearview mirror as they were arrested. As I got closer and closer the wave of media reporters plastered themselves to my windows and I was forced to go less than five kilometers an hour.   
  
"Detective Motou can you give us-"  
  
"Officer Motou what do you think-"  
  
"Detective Motou you recently-"  
  
I turned up my radio and listened to a woman giving sex advice to the listening teenagers of Domino city. Anything was better than what the media had to say, request, demand, or ask.   
  
The police let me in and I parked right outside of the yellow tape which was put together upside down in the haste. No one needed to read it; they all knew what it meant. I stuck my hands in my pockets and nodded a greeting to my partner. He was taller than me by a good three inches and had messy blonde hair that made the girls swoon, especially when we were called into the high schools to give lectures on our Crime Stoppers program.   
  
"I used to be a horror movie buff, then I got into this job and nothing seemed real enough to scare me," He murmured, passing me a cup of bad coffee. It was November and the weather was cooling down dramatically. Cameras were going off like crazy from both the media behind us and the camera crew of the crime scene clean-up team. They'd photographed everything before anyone else got here, as it was all tagged, with a wide shot of the entire scene itself, and so on. All together you're looking at a couple dozen rolls of film belonging to one crime scene.   
  
"Has the pathologist come in yet?" I asked, signing the integrity sheet. Every officer on and off the scene has to sign this paper documenting who was on the scene and what they did from the specialists, Jounouchi and I, to the responding officer who just stands there making sure no one leaves who isn't supposed to.   
  
"That's a negative, she is on her way."  
  
"She's here."   
  
We turned and there she was, blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun and thick black-rimmed glasses pushed up on her small nose. She was not wearing her make-up which meant she had been in a hurry; Kujaku Mai was a vain woman if I'd ever seen one. Her lab coat was buttoned and covered her blouse so I couldn't see, but she was wearing black work slacks and her boots. She had her equipment was in one hand and a box of gloves in the other.   
  
She didn't give us one look as she walked by. She never let her personal life get in the way of her work. She was all about work right now. She and Jou had been dating since August; it was now April. She knelt by the body and began to take the temperature; usually it's done internally because externally the body is cold to touch from the early stage of death.  
  
"The normal temperature of the body is around 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit. The temperature of the body falls from its normal level at a rate of roughly one and a half degrees per hour for the first twelve hours depending on the build of the body and the clothes or insulation covering the body." Mai murmured as she recorded numbers that meant nothing to me. "For the next twelve hours the internal temperature falls at about half this rate. You can also tell what stage the body is in, through Rigor mortis, a Latin term meaning "the stiffness of death"; this begins as the internal chemistry of the body changes from its normal acid state to an alkaline one, usually two hours after life has been extinguished."  
  
"This person isn't a fucking bon fire, Doctor Kujaku." Jou muttered. He's very honorable when it comes to talking about the dead. He won't go into a cemetery that doesn't have a set path; it's very rude to walk on the dead even though they surely won't mind. They've been decaying for years.   
  
Mai went on her lecture as if she'd never been interrupted; I noticed that we had a crowd of officers who were listening intently on what she had to say, some were even taking notes beneath the information they'd use later for their reports. She's one of Domino's best forensic pathologists, wrote a book on the connection between our job, crime scene investigation, and hers, pathology. I guess it helps that she's come from a long line of pathologists who run their own firm, or business, or clinic, whatever you want to call it. I never pay attention. I'm too preoccupied with the dead bodies to remember to get the correct name of where these people work.   
  
"Another tool that can determine the time of dead is called livor mortis, or 'the bruising of death.' When the heart stops beating and the blood stops circulating, the red cells descend by the force of gravity to the parts of the body in contact with the ground. They're a bruised color from about two hours after death to indicate that the body has not been moved," She lifted the body out of the water with some help and set her on the ground. It was almost gentle the way she did it, not like setting down a corpse at all; it was more like laying down a child to sleep. "But the most accurate estimate time of death was discovered by Dr. John Coe, medical examiner from the Hennepin County of Minneapolis United States. When the red blood cells break down in the process which produced livor mortis, they release quantities of potassium. It diffuses into vitreous humor, the fluid that fills the insides of the eyeballs. A sample of this and a test to determine the potassium levels will give you the most accurate time of death."   
  
I turned and Jou looked positively pale.   
  
-----  
  
**_To Be Continued. . ._**


End file.
